King of the Pound
by Ambereyedwolfchild
Summary: Nobody wanted a flawed kitten, that was the first lesson Jim learnt. The second was that if he wanted to stop the other cats from laughing then he couldn't do it alone. Cat!AU. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty. MorMor, kinda? Epilogue will be up in a few days.
1. King of the Pound

_**King of the Pound**_

Jim yowled, unashamed of the racket he was causing as he skittered back and forwards in the cardboard cat carrier. He could hear whatever human had shoved him in this thrice be damned box cussing as she nearly lost her grip on the carrier and hissed in satisfaction. Served her right for wearing such a horrifically floral perfume. There was a clink of a metal latch and the squeak of a door and then everything was moving. He was tipped into a cold metal cage with a soft "Oof!" as the air was knocked out of him. Jim's paws got tangled in his tail and he felt the hot flush of indignation and embarrassment creep into his stomach as the other occupants of the cage giggled.

In a completely graceless motion he scrambled upright, paws spread unevenly around him and hackles raised. There were five other kittens in the cage, all bigger than Jim, and the biggest- a ginger and white fluff ball of a cat- stepped forward. Green eyes flicked across Jim, taking in ruffled black fur and wide eyes. Jim's whiskers were splayed out and his ears were flattened and it only served to emphasise his peculiar eyes. One was bright, icy blue and the other a deep chocolate brown.

Jim _hated _them. They made him different, the runt of his litter. Nobody wanted a flawed kitten, no matter what his pedigree was. The Moriarty line wasn't allowed flaws.

The kittens skittered back as one, unsettled by this intruder and his weird eyes. "Why are you in our cage? You're not a normal cat. What kind of a freak are you? You'll scare all the families away." It was the biggest who spoke, voice loud with bluffed toughness and Jim would never admit that that hurt. Jim frowned, tail lashing once before falling to curl around his back leg. "I'm not a freak." His meow was drowned out as the door slammed shut and made him jump. "M'name's Jim."

"You gotta be a freak. Normal cats don't have wonky eyes." Ginger, as Jim had nicknamed him on sight-not caring to find out his real name, retorted, taking a step closer. Jim pinned his ears back and glared, backing into the corner. The mesh wall dug into his fur but Jim ignored it. He was clever. Ginger was twice the size of him, starting a fight with Ginger would be starting a fight he would never win. "You stay over there; we don't want nothing to do with a freak." He turned to the other kittens, who on closer inspection were obviously his siblings, getting approving mewls from them all.

That was okay. Being ignored wasn't a new thing for Jim. He was used to it. He curled up as small as he could, tucking his nose under his tail and smothering a weak sniff. He wanted his mam and his baby brother. Richard had never laughed at him. But Richie was too small, too nice. He'd let the other kittens push him around and take his food. By the time the vet got there it was too late. Jim swore he wouldn't let that happen to him.

A small part of Jim had hoped they'd warm up to him but no. Ginger had obviously taken a serious dislike to him, pushing him around and snapping at him. With the help of the others they could stop Jim from doing anything but curling up in his corner. He had to wait until the others were fast asleep, tangled together in a purring heap, to creep over to the big bowl of cat food and take a few mouthfuls of the crunchy biscuits. By the time the other kittens were done there wasn't much there, but Jim didn't need much. Every night one of the kittens would stir and Jim would freeze, tongue poking out where he'd been lapping up water. Nothing ever happened. The nasty fluff balls would settle down and Jim could retreat to his corner.

A week. Jim had been in the pound for a week. He knew that because exactly seven of those _awful _parades had taken place. Once a day all the cats were dumped in a huge and ridiculous pen filled with toys and cushions for the cats to get some exercise. They were made to stay there as an assortment of humans trudged past, pulling tails and playing with the cats that looked the cutest until they got bored or finally chose a cat.

One of Ginger's brothers had been adopted, and two of his sisters. Jim took great satisfaction in the frustrated expression on Ginger's face every time he was ignored in favour of someone else. Jim wanted out of the pound and he wanted out _now._And he tried. He tried to impress the little humans, blinking up at them and pouncing playfully on their sticky hands. And it always worked. The humans would coo and stroke him and they'd be putty in his paws.

And then Ginger always ruined it and by God, Jim was starting to despise him. He'd pounce on Jim, digging in claws and teeth and when the smaller kitten batted him away he'd limp off with a faked whimper. Parents would usher their children away, trying to talk them into a different cat- less violent. But the worst part was that no matter how angry he got, he was too small to do _anything _about it.

So Jim gave up, called it a tactical retreat, a change of plan, but it was nothing of the sort. Ginger had him beat. And Jim hated it. Hated him.

The humans were gone for now, leaving them to play in the pen for a little while longer. Ginger was hissing at him and flicked him hard with his tail as he passed. And Jim snapped. He hissed, baring his teeth and flicking his claws out. He was a split second from pouncing when teeth caught the scruff of his neck, lifting him off the ground. "Put me down!" He yelped, wriggling frantically with his tail whipping behind him in anger. There was a mumble of disagreement against his fur and suddenly Jim was moving, legs kicking feebly in the air.

The kitten was carried across to the other side of the room before being deposited on a soft cushion. As soon as he was back on his paws he shook his fur irritably. Jim turned to glare at his kidnapper, mismatching eyes dancing with fire. The other cat was big, three times taller than Jim and twice as wide, and his fur was bright orange. It was brighter than anything he'd ever seen before and striped with thick and thin black stripes. "What did you do that for?" Jim demanded, puffing himself up as big as he could.

"Carl is bigger than you. He'd snap your neck." The cat's voice was smooth and low and soothing like warm milk and it was enough to make Jim lower his hackles. So Ginger's real name was Carl. Jim ignored it, he didn't care.

"I don't care." The kitten huffed, clawing the cushion lightly in exasperation. "He's a bully. He bites me and doesn't let me eat and I hate him. I'm gonna bite his ears off."

The bigger cat seemed to find this amusing, curling up and setting his nose on his paws. "How about you have a nap and I'll get you some food. If you still want to bite his ears off tomorrow, we'll see." Jim blinked up at him, slowly settling down and curling up on the cushion. The striped cat didn't seem to be joking, he was smiling at Jim and offering to help him. Was this what it felt like to have made a friend? There was a huff that startled Jim out of his thoughts. "Go to sleep, Jim."

"How'd you know my name?" Jim asked, tilting his head a little even as he got comfortable and tucked his paws against his chest.

"Everyone knows your name. Sleep." Green eyes met his for a moment before drifting shut. "I'm Sebastian." Jim slowly moved to go and find Ginger- after all he could bite his ears off tonight rather than leaving it a whole day- but a paw, striped and tipped in white, settled on his side protectively.

Jim couldn't help a grin. Everyone knew his name. He liked the sound of that.

Ginger mostly left Jim alone after that. Everyone did. Sebastian was intimidating to say the least. And Jim was kinda… happy. Sebastian kept bringing the kitten food until Jim kicked up enough of a fuss that he annoyed the humans into letting him share a cage with his striped friend, sleeping curled under that protective paw.

There were more of the humans. They came every day as usual, playing with the more excitable kittens. And Jim didn't care anymore. While Ginger prance about like an idiot to try and catch their attention, Jim was crouched in a corner, trying to pounce on Sebastian's tail. Every single time he leapt the older cat would twitch his tail out of the way with an amused huff. "Seeeeeeeeeeb!" He mewled, changing targets and pouncing onto Sebastian's back, sprawling across him and purring loudly as he nuzzled into striped fur.

"Jiiiiim." Sebastian mewled back in a way that should be mocking and cruel but just wasn't. He batted at Jim with one paw, pushing him off, but the kitten pounced again within seconds. The pair tussled playfully, growling and nipping at each other. One hit made Jim skid across the floor and he jumped up, not hearing the young human voice behind him. "I want that one!"

Jim _did _notice as cold hands scooped him up and sickening floral perfume flooded his senses. His eyes snapped to Sebastian's, seeing the playfulness drip away and _fear _replace it. "_Seb. _Seb! Help me!" He was mewling at the top of his lungs but that didn't stop the cries being muffled, never hearing Sebastian's reply, as he was dropped into a familiar cat carrier. The top closed with a soft click, plunging him into darkness with a sense of finality.

**Epilogue is half written and will be up in a few days.**

**If you have any prompts or requests, send me a message on here or on Tumblr (kinkysmutdragon) and I'll add it to my list.**


	2. King of the Streets

Sebastian was honestly surprised when he was adopted, he'd truly expected to die in that damned pound. After all, he could hardly be called goodnatured. Once the humans had taken Jim he'd given up on the fighting and growling and just slept. He knew he would never see Jim again. Nobody ever came back. He was surprised when he was adopted but wasn't surprised in the slightest when he hated it. Sebastian stayed there for a while, but ran the first chance he got.

Happy wasn't the right word. Happier, perhaps. Sebastian was happier living as he was, alley to alley and dustbin to dustbin. The striped cat was smart, he knew how to find the best food. Living on the streets had different rules, powerful cats attracted weaker cats and formed gangs. Those gangs would protect their territory to the last. Sebastian didn't belong to any gangs and he didn't want to. He wouldn't bare his throat to some stuck up kitten. He was, however, smart enough to know who's territory he was on. The cat went by Moriarty and he was damn near legendary. Young but terrifying. He had the best territory and the best food and all the other gangs were scared shitless of him. He ran London singlepawedly and Sebastian hoped he would never run into him.

It was too much to hope that he'd manage to stay under the radar and when he looked up to find a pair of scarred cats blocking each end of the alley he'd been sleeping in, he knew Moriarty had caught up with him. Sebastian pressed himself into the shadows, a gleam of green the only sign he was there.

Moriarty leapt gracefully off a tall fence, landing in the alley with a near silent thump. Sebastian froze. Moriarty was sleek and thin, elegance seeping out of every inch of carefully cleaned black fur. That wasn't what drew his attention, no. Sebastian's eyes were fixed on Moriarty's, not believing what he was seeing. Moriarty stared back, one eye ice blue and the other dark brown. "Jim?" Sebastian's voice was surprised and achingly hopeful. "You're Moriarty."

Jim couldn't hide his grin, taking a small step forward before tackling the striped cat. "Hello, tiger." The thugs guarding the alley looked shocked but kept their gaze averted- too scared of Jim to dare to do anything else.

Sebastian rolled with the tackle, a purring growl being pulled from his throat. He nuzzled against Jim's cheek, licking a stripe across the top of his head. "You. You're the terrifying Moriarty." he laughed softly, pushing Jim away and getting a nip on the ear for his trouble.

"Yep." Jim smirked, straightening himself out and turning from graceless kitten to elegant leader in the blink of an eye. "And everyone knows my name."


End file.
